Rik’s eyes seemed to be focused in the middle distance. He gave the impression that his mind was not there at all. A moment later intelligence and sanity returned.

“I am fine,” he said. “I have been unwell but I am getting better now.”

“You should be more careful of your health, for all our sakes.” Sardec hoped that the two of them picked up on his meaning.

“Will you have something to drink?” Asea asked.

“No,” said Sardec. “I must return to my duties. As always, Milady, a pleasure.”

“This is very poor timing,” Asea said, once Sardec had gone.

Rik nodded. In the depths of his mind, the presences that had been there since he had eaten the soul of the alien Quan gibbered agreement. They had erupted when the Lieutenant had brought the news. Rik hoped that Sardec had not suspected the truth of what was going on. If he did, he would most likely report it to the Inquisition at once, and Rik would hardly have blamed him.

He had, after all, practised the darkest form of magic when he destroyed the vampiric Elder World demon, and he had taken its memories, and all the memories of those creatures whose souls it had devoured into himself. There were times when he felt that what he had done would drive him mad, if it had not already done so.

Asea looked disturbed. “You need to get yourself in hand. I do not think you could meet with the Inquisitor at the moment. He would believe you to be possessed.”

“And you think I am not?”

“I think you are suffering the after-effects of a complex piece of sorcery that was almost beyond your ability and that you are lucky to be alive and with your mind intact.”

Rik could not disagree with that. For a while there, things had improved, but, with the persistence of malarial fever, the attacks of madness returned. His dreams were haunted and sometimes fragments of those dreams broke into his waking hours.

There were times when he found himself remembering the Quan’s underwater home near Harven almost with fondness, when he recalled the strange rituals of the squid-faced aliens with something like understanding, when he found himself reaching out for the flows of magical energy around him with a knowledge he had never gained from his studies with Asea.

Worse were the times when he recalled the lives of the people the Quan had devoured. Sometimes he remembered being a sailor on the cold grey waters of the northern seas. He had flashes of his lungs filling with water as the Quan ate his soul. He woke unsure of whether he was alive. There were moments when he thought he was the one who had been devoured and lived only in the Quan’s dreams.

Sometimes he wished he had never left Sorrow, never met Asea, never become embroiled in the deadly intrigues that surrounded her. He might have been happier if he had not attempted to claim his Terrarch birthright and master magic.

He pushed the thoughts aside as worthless. He had made his decision and accepted Asea’s patronage and now he would have to find a way of living with the consequences.

“Rik, pay attention,” said the sorceress. He realised that he had missed a lot of what Asea was saying. “Your life depends on this. Perhaps mine does too.”

“I don’t see why?” he said coldly. “You are of the First. You are kin to the Queen and to General Azaar. I am sure you will find a way to survive.”

Her smile was cold and dazzling and not without a hint of humour. “Your faith is touching, but misplaced. We are at war now, and not just with the Sardeans.